


The Undergraduate

by embroiderama



Category: White Collar
Genre: College, Gen, Post-Anklet, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:49:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embroiderama/pseuds/embroiderama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For nearly four years, Neal managed to keep a secret from almost everybody in his life. Inevitably, the truth had to come out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Undergraduate

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have too much to say about this one--just an idea I wanted to explore in a ficlet. Thanks for encouragement go to the usual suspects in chat.

Neal knew there was no good reason to keep his secret, not from Mozzie and not from Elizabeth or Peter or anybody else at the Bureau. He told himself that it was just to keep himself in practice, to know that he could run a long con if and when it became necessary, but if he’d once been able to con _himself_ those days were long gone. It was all about pride and fear; he was too proud to have Peter and the Harvard crew know he was starting at a level so far below them, and he was afraid they’d tell him there was no point. As for Mozzie, Neal knew that Mozzie would have nothing good to say about Neal pursuing his B.S. in Criminal Justice. At CUNY.

The only person in Neal’s life outside of school who knew what he was doing was June, and the whole thing had come from her encouragement, her funding. Neal suspected she had greased some wheels in order to get him admitted with only the GED and handful of community college credits Neal had been able to earn while in prison, but once he was admitted he knew he was on his own. He took as many classes as possible online, but the campus was well within his radius, and he was able to make the schedule work. Most of the time.

Fleeing the country in the middle of a semester had left him with a handful of Incompletes, but he made his excuses and completed the work quickly. The classes were interesting, if not all that challenging, and as he grew closer to meeting the requirements for graduation he didn't know which feeling was stronger--excitement about being finished or worry about revealing his hand and seeing how it would be received.

~~~

Peter called Neal into his office with an usually serious look on his face, and Neal tried not to imagine the worst. He was two months away from the end of his sentence, and he really didn't want to find out that the other shoe was about to drop. It was almost two years since Agent Kramer had threatened to find cause to keep Neal attached to the FBI indefinitely, but Kramer had since retired and Neal didn't want to believe that Peter or anybody else he'd worked with in New York would go that route. Still, he couldn't rule it out so he walked into Peter's office on high alert.

"I want to talk to you about the future," Peter said, and Neal didn't let himself react. "Your future, after you get off of the anklet in April."

"That's still the plan then, that I'll have my freedom?"

Peter sat back and looked at Neal sharply. "Of course. Unless you do something to change that, but I don't believe you will. Right?"

"I thought that maybe you--never mind. What in particular about the future do you want to discuss?"

"I want to make sure that you can make the transition from CI to citizen as smoothly as possible. I know you have a lot more resources than a typical ex-con, to say the least, but that doesn't mean it's going to be easy. You have a lot of experience, but some _official_ education could go a long way to helping you in the future. There are some programs, if you're interested." Peter picked up a folder and held it out, but Neal held up his hand. It was time to come clean before Peter had him taking the placement tests for some kind of career training.

"Actually, I've been working on that."

Peter leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "Really?"

"You didn't notice my visits to the CUNY campus?"

"I did," Peter said slowly. "I thought you were auditing a class, flirting with undergrads maybe."

"Peter, you wound me. Actually, I--" Neal felt a rush of nerves, but if Peter was going to mock him at least they could get it over with. "I'm going to be graduating in May with a Bachelor's in Criminal Justice. I know it's not--"

Peter gaped then stood up and rounded his desk to lean against the edge of it in front of Neal. "Are you being straight with me?"

"You don't think I could get a degree?"

"I think you could get six degrees, I just didn't think you were there yet. When did this start?"

"Not very long after you got me out of prison the first time. I already had some credits that I'd earned to keep from losing my mind at Sing Sing."

"I knew about those, but this is fast. How are you about to graduate?"

Neal shrugged. "I found that I could fit a decent amount of coursework in with working for you, and I took advantage of some programs that let me earn credits for previous experience. You can check my transcript if you want."

"No, I believe you, Neal. I'm just--" Peter rubbed a hand over his mouth and then his face broke into a smile. "I'm proud of you. I really am."

Those words meant more to Neal than he was willing to admit so he looked away.

"So--so I assume June has been paying for this?"

Neal nodded. "It was her idea."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." Peter was quiet for a moment, then kicked gently at the sole of Neal's shoe. "I think I understand why you didn't say anything, though I wish you had. I might've gone a little bit easier on you sometimes if I knew you were going home to write a paper."

"I think I'm going to need to write a lot of papers in the next two months." Neal flashed Peter a smile, half for show and half real joy at having Peter's support.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Seriously, let me know if you need time, and just be thinking about what you're going to do when that anklet is history."

"I will," Neal said. "I am."

~~~

On April 23rd, with very little hassle or ceremony, Peter removed the anklet from Neal's leg and Neal became a free man. He knew that he did need to solidify a plan for how he was going to build a career going forward, but he had a place to live, some money in the bank and a busy few weeks to get all of the final work for his classes done and study for his last finals. Well, his last undergraduate finals. Neal was considering a few avenues for grad school, but he couldn't make any decisions about that until he knew more about what he was going to do for work. And after four years of going to school nearly full-time while also working for Peter and being involved in some fairly major "side-projects" with Mozzie, Neal thought it would be a good idea to take a semester off.

Neal had considered skipping the whole commencement exercise--after all, he was far older than traditional college age, and all he really wanted was to take the degree he'd legitimately earned and go forward into his future. June, on the other hand, insisted that she wanted to see him walk across the stage and hear his name called, and Neal owed her in so many ways beyond her funding of his education that he couldn't say no. The black gown was hot and scratchy, making Neal sweat in his vest and shirt-sleeves, and he was caught up in mulling over the horror of polyester when he caught something in the corner of his eye that made him turn around.

There, in seats far closer to the stage than Neal suspected was standard for the families of new graduates, sat June, Mozzie, Peter, Elizabeth, Diana and Clinton. Elizabeth noticed him looking and waved, and then she picked something up and June took the other side. It was a sign, professionally printed with "We're Proud of You Neal!" in big, blue letters. Neal's eyes burned and he blinked hard, swallowing back the unexpected emotion.

Way back in high school and middle school, Neal had been a good student. He wasn't always the best because sometimes he didn't care enough and sometimes he was trying to figure out how much he could game the system to get decent grades without doing so much work, but he'd brought home good report cards year after year. He did it because he liked learning and because it wasn't hard, and he told himself that he was glad not to have his mother breathing down his neck. And yet every time he got a report card he left it sitting on the table hoping that she'd be proud of his grades. And every time he was disappointed.

It seemed ridiculous and childlike at Neal's age to be so pleased to have friends--family, really--who were proud of him, but he _was_ pleased. Overwhelmed really; he had to turn away from them and take a few deep breaths to get his composure back before it was his turn to walk across the stage. The lights blinded him so that he couldn't see his friends from the stage, but he took the diploma and allowed himself to be herded along with the rest of the new graduates.

When he made his way out of the crowd, Neal found Peter waiting for him alone.

"Hey, where did everybody go? I wanted to thank everyone for coming. I didn't expect that."

"I was assigned the task of finding you after the ceremony."

"Ah, yeah, you're pretty good at that."

"Good thing. This place is a madhouse."

Neal looked away, not sure what to say, then turned back to catch Peter watching him with a small, warm smile on his face. "What?"

"It's just--it's good to see you this way, Mr. Graduate. Now we should make our way to your party before Mozzie, June and probably my wife get Diana and Jones into trouble." Peter started walking toward the nearest exit, and Neal maneuvered through the crowd to stay next to him.

"Party? I can't believe you all showed up here, and now there's a party?"

"You deserve it. And you should have invited us, but since you didn't we just invited ourselves."

"I'm glad you did." Neal hadn't realized how good it would feel to have everybody there. "So where's the party? June's house?"

"No, El booked a table for us all. And you know I had nothing to do with it because it's sushi."

"They ganged up on you?"

"All of them. Even Jones."

"Somebody's going to be in trouble at work on Monday."

Peter laughed then went quiet as they continued walking to the car and got inside. "You know, speaking of work, I'd like it if you came in one day this week, just to talk."

"Am I in trouble?"

"I don't know, are you?" Peter shook his head. "No, I have a job offer for you. I didn't think I was going to be able to make a position work for you, but your degree changed that around a little. If you're not interested it's okay, but do me a favor and come in to talk about it?"

"Wow. Of course." Neal wasn't sure if working for the FBI would be a viable career for him long-term, but the idea of being able to keep working with Peter and the team was tempting. And he owed Peter a meeting if nothing else. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me until you see the number at the bottom of the page."

"Fair enough."

The restaurant wasn't far, and soon Peter had parked and they walked inside to find the rest of the group sitting at a table in the back. Mozzie was seated with June and El insulating him from the feds, and Diana and Jones were surreptitiously sword-fighting with chopsticks. Neal and Peter sat down in the middle of the group, and Neal smiled at everyone's congratulations and well-wishes until the waitress came to take their order. It was a good day, and Neal thought about how, four years ago, he never could have imagined this day, this group, this feeling.

Whatever he decided to do with his future, Neal knew two things: he wouldn't be leaving New York behind and he wouldn't be alone.

**Author's Note:**

> This story has timestamps [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2166360/chapters/4737291) and [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2166360/chapters/4737297).


End file.
